


Revival of a Traitor

by Animationfantic



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Discorporated Crowley (Good Omens), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26902021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animationfantic/pseuds/Animationfantic
Summary: One year after the averted Apocalypse, a freak accident separates Crowley's soul from his body, and Aziraphale must unite with unlikely allies before it's too late.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Revival of a Traitor

Gabriel, Heaven's delegate archangel, loitered on a street corner outside A.Z. Fell and Co. A light rain had been falling since mid-afternoon. Unused to precipitation, Gabriel drew the lapels of his cloak tighter around himself. How did Aziraphale stand this? Cold and wet, and so...human. He'd been lurking. No, hovering. Angels did not lurk, on this lonely corner for the better half of the day, waiting. A few humans wandered past, obvious to his celestial energy. The lights in the shop were on, but Aziraphale himself had yet to make an appearance. This mission was of the upmost importance. Almost a year to the day since Aziraphale and the demon Crowley had averted the Apocalypse and, somehow, survived their execution attempts. Most of Heaven, at Gabriel's instance, had never spoken of it. Today was different. Gabriel had come down to see to this himself. A whole 365 days had gone by. Surely Aziraphale would have seen the error of his ways. Heaven needed a permanently stationed agent on Earth. At least, that was what Gabriel had told the other Archangels. He'd spent months convincing Micheal and the others that having a loose end wandering down on Earth was not the way to part with Aziraphale. "Give him another chance," Gabriel had said. "I'll go talk to him."

A massive black car skidded around the corner, sending a wave of cold water over Gabriel. He recoiled, muttering under his breath. Crowley sprang out and ran to the shop entrance.

“Angel!”

At his call, the door burst open, and Aziraphale hurtled out. They ran to each other and rubbed foreheads with obvious delight. The demon’s throaty chuckles reached his ears even from where he crouched. Aziraphale, damn him, was smiling. No, not smiling. That was too tame. He was  glowing. Positively brimming with celestial radiance as he reunited with his mate. Gabriel supposed this was partially his fault. Should have called Aziraphale back Upstairs for a performance review. Kept a better eye on him.  


The door closed. Gabriel watched the sign flip, on its own, to Closed. What a frivolous use of a miracle. Not a good sign. Maybe, just maybe, this intervention had come in time to save Aziraphale from himself.   


Gabriel slunk across the road and rested a cautious hand on the door. A feeble wave of energy vibrated under his fingers. A protective sign, a warning. It was adorable, how pathetic these two were. Did Aziraphale and his pet demon think a spell this weak would keep out anyone?

"You've got to be kidding," Gabriel muttered. "Try harder. It takes more than this to keep out Heaven's best."

He pushed inside. Had Gabriel been paying attention, he would have noticed the eerie silence. The bell above the door hadn’t bothered to ring.

The shop hadn't changed in the past year. Thousands of books towered on shelves stretching to the ceiling. Intentionally mismatched furnishings at least a hundred years out of date. No sign of the Snake or Aziraphale. Where had they gone? They’d had barely a two minute head start.

As if in answer to his silent question, Gabriel caught the quiet creak of footfalls from upstairs.

Perfect. A slow smile spread across his face. This was too easy. It almost made up for the long stint outside in the rain. He started for the spiral staircase. He’d be back Upstairs in time for the last chorus. Just have to hand over the paperwork to Aziraphale and...

Teeth fastened in his shoulder and wrenched him off-balance. Gabriel crashed to the ground. Amber eyes blazed an inch from his nose. Something huge and scaly curled around his corporation, forcing the air out of his lungs. Gabriel’s vision was becoming spotty. Heavy fog swirled in his brain, wiping away all thought.

“Crowley,  no!”

Footsteps clattered on the stairs. Gabriel looked up. Saw the hazy outline. Blue-gray eyes. Tartan bowtie. Ridiculous spectacles.

“Aziraphale!” Gabriel tried to shout, and managed only a wheezy puff.

It hardly mattered. The Principality wasn't looking at him.  Arms crossed, Aziraphale crooked a finger. “Let him go.”

A forked tongue slapped the archangel’s face. “Dunno if you noticed, but we have company.”  


”Please don’t insult my intelligence. Of course I know. It’s Gabriel. He’s not hard to spot.”

”Nothing gets past you, angel,” Crowley said, with a respectful dip of his massive head. There was more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “ Now, please excuse me while I show this unpleasant visitor the inside of my digestive tract.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Why?” Crowley asked. “Something this pretty has to taste good.”

”I lowered the protection spell for a reason. How else do you think he got in? I want to hear what he has to say.”

”What?” Crowley snapped. “Angel, that’s crazy. Who cares what he’s got to say? It’ll be the usual bullshit. Let me take care of it. One bite, and he’s history.”

Aziraphale tapped his foot. “I’m waiting.”

“You’re no fun, you know that?”

Iron coils around his body flexed once and then retracted as the huge reptile released him. Gabriel sucked in a breath he didn’t need. In this shape, the demon had to be at least twelve feet long. He was huge. Red belly scales completed the inky black covering the rest of the snake.

The snake hissed and retreated. It wound around Azriaphale’s legs in lazy affection. “Spoilsport.”

“Heathen,” Aziraphale retorted calmly.

“He’d give me indigestion anyway. Too holy,” Crowley spat. He shot Gabriel a filthy look. “Let me kill him.”

He twined protectively around Aziraphale, head resting in the hollow of his throat. Coil after coil twirled around the unresisting angel. Gabriel wrinkled his nose. He was so big, his tail dragged on the ground.

“Absolutely not. We’d never get the stain out.”

“Put a rug over it. One of those Persian monstrosities you love so much,” Crowley wheedled. 

“No.” Aziraphale didn’t raise his voice. He ran a finger down Crowley’s serpentine length. “Someone would come looking for him. How would you explain that to Michael?” 

Coils rustled as Crowley shifted position. “I’d make it look like an accident, don’t worry. Spontaneous angelic combustion. Happens all the time.” His eyes narrowed to vertical slits. “Not like anyone would miss him. He’s a prick.”

“Language, dear,” Aziraphale said mildly.

Gabriel glowered. An angel protected by the Serpent of Eden. He wore the coils like armor, black, glistening, and proud. It would have been impressive. If it wasn’t so wrong.

Angels did not consort with demons. Let alone mate with them. Centuries of association with humanity had obviously caused a lapse in judgement. A serious one.

_I should’ve called him back to the office more often,_ _ Gabriel thought.  Maybe he wouldn’t have succumbed to weakness._

He’d known Crowley before the Rebellion. He’d been good. One of the best. But too damn curious. Asking questions was not encouraged. The Divine Plan, the blueprint of the universe, was meant to be honored and followed. But this waste of celestial energy had a knack for poking holes in arguments. Slithering into trouble.

The stars he crafted were masterpieces. Now he enveloped the brightest star of them all. An angel with twice the grace Heaven had to offer. In Crowley’s opinion, anyway.

And then there was Aziraphale, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wearer of Snakes, Reader of Books.

"I thought I smelled something when I pulled up. He must've been outside for ages," Crowley snarled, dragging Gabriel back to the present. “Creepy little bugger. Hasn’t anyone told you it’s impolite to lurk? That’s a demon’s job. Trust me, I know. Not very angelic, Gabe.”

Still sitting on the floor where Crowley had dropped him, Gabriel rubbed his chest. ”This has nothing to do with you. Azriaphale, I’ve come with a proposition.”

”No, thanks.” Crowley spoke before Aziraphale could open his mouth. “We’re not interested.” He wound tighter around Azriaphale, butting his cheek with his nose. ”C’mon, angel, let me finish the job.”

Aziraphale remained unphased. “I said no.”

“I’d do it on my own, you wouldn’t get involved at all. Promise. Cross my little black heart.”

“No, Crowley.”

“It’d be an in and out job. Five minutes.”

“And risk my books?”

“Ah, they’d survive. Unlike pretty boy. We’ll have a little barbecue.”

“I think not. Have you smelled burning feathers recently? Horrid. I am not having that stench permeating my place of business,” Aziraphale said with an air of finality even Crowley couldn’t argue with. “Let me handle this.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing,” Crowley grumbled. His tail lashed, carving a furrow though dust-caked hardwood. “The smell would keep people away. You don’t want them in here.”

Azriaphale steepled his fingers on Crowley’s snout. “That’s hardly the point. You’re not turning the shop into a crime scene.”

Crowley shrugged. Not an easy move without shoulders. “Suit yourself.” His head snapped to Gabriel. “You hear that? It’s only because my angel’s feeling merciful that I’m not swallowing you down with a glass of bergamot. Don’t lay a hand on him.”

“Or else what?” Gabriel found his voice.

Crowley snapped his jaws. His teeth clacked. “Or we’ll redefine smoking hot.”

Thin tendrils of smoke curled out of his nostrils. Aziraphale waved it away.

“You hurt him, I’ll roast you. Archangel flambé.” Crowley’s eyes bored into Gabriel’s. “I should warn you, I like to take my time,” Crowley grated. “Savor the flames. You can’t rush a good fire. Longer the cook time, the sweeter the meat.”

He leaned in, anchoring the lower half of his body over the angel. His nose stopped an inch from Gabriel’s face. 

“Are you listening?” Crowley’s voice was low and dangerous. “The blaze I’ll engulf you in will make the one from Rome look like a bloody joke.”

Gabriel held his ground. Every ounce of his soul screamed for Gabriel to back away. To retreat, get as far away as possible from those glistening fangs and darting tongue.

“I don’t know what I’ll do to you after you’ve burnt to a crisp, but I promise you, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”

“You’re bluffing.” Gabriel found his voice. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

“That’s enough.” Aziraphale clucked disapprovingly. Crowley hissed long and low as the angel reeled him in. “I think he’s gotten the message, dear.”

Crowley growled. “I dunno. He’s got a thick skull.”

“Very true. Now, do be quiet. Let me handle this.”

Gabriel swallowed. The words he’d been fighting back burst from him. “Aziraphale, you have been granted a second chance. You have clearly fallen from Grace and it is the opinion of the Archangels that you be granted another chance to regain your proper place. I believe if we act now, we may be able to salvage what’s left of your pathetic soul. All you have to do is revoke your station here on Earth, and in four or five eons...”

Gabriel didn’t get a chance to finish. Crowley’s shape twisted, faster than inhumanly possible, into the most frightening thing Gabriel had ever seen. His eyes rolled back. Everything went black.  Gabriel hit the floor, out cold.   


“Crowley sniffed and restored his default settings. “Archangels. No backbone. They see one maggot and they pass out.”

“There was more than one in that little performance of yours,” Aziraphale said, his eyes warm with laughter. “Oh, dear. We should wake him up. He doesn’t add much to the décor.”

Crowley eyed the prone form sourly. “We could always stuff his fingers down the garage disposal. Or throw him headfirst into a wood chipper,” he added hopefully.

“Too messy, I’m afraid.”

“Just putting it out there.”

“A garbage disposal,” Aziraphale muttered under his breath. He tried to keep the smile contained. “Honestly, Crowley, he’s an archangel, not a houseplant.”

“Plants serve a purpose,” Crowley argued.He stuffed his hands in his pockets and slouched across to Gabriel. The look on his face would have frozen lava. “They pump out carbon dioxide and give oxygen and make things look nice.” He nudged the prostrate form with his foot. “He’s not doing us any favors.” 

“No, he isn’t,” Aziraphale agreed mildly. “I won’t let you throw him down the drain, though.”

“Yeah, it’d probably clog up the sink.” Crowley looked at him. “Do you ever get tired of being right?”

“No.”

“You know, we could move him to a secondary location and let nature take its course.” His eyes sparkled maliciously. “An active volcano. Or a busy intersection. During rush hour.”

“That’s quite enough.”

The demon lapsed into sullen silence. He aimed another swat at the fallen Gabriel. “Oi, wake up.”

Sickeningly purple eyes blinked open. “Oh, wow. My head...”

Crowley growled and stalked to Aziraphale’s side.  _Count yourself lucky it’s still attached._ If he’d had his way, he’d chop the smug prick's head off and stick it over the mantelpiece. Sure it would clash with the aesthetic, but what the hell? It would serve as a warning, scare off any potential visitors from Above or Below.

Gabriel sat up, rubbing the back of his head. Crowley hissed. He put his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder, hands still in his pockets, leaning on the doorframe.

Gabriel rose, wincing.

Aziraphale folded his hands and rested them on his stomach. “Now, let’s get to the point,” he said. “Why are you here? And be quick. We have dinner reservations.”

Crowley butted his shoulder. “Careful, angel. Your inner bastard’s showing.”

Aziraphale flashed him a glowing smile and a wink.

Gabriel scowled. “Control your pet, Aziraphale.”

“Oh, I can’t be held accountable for what Crowley does,” Azriaphale chirped. “Demons are terribly unpredictable, you know. Very wily.”

Gabriel missed the smug look on Crowley's face. Crowley bared his teeth. His tongue, suddenly forked, slapped the air. "Out with it, Gabe. What brings you here? And drop the ‘save your soul’ act. What’s this about? Make it snappy. I’m hungry.”


End file.
